


It feels like nothing is easy (it’ll never be)

by demonn



Series: Let’s give this love a new name [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Clint Barton mentioned, Extremis Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, James Barnes is not doing ok, M/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Violence, Not Steve Friendly, Steve Rogers mentioned - Freeform, Tony is angry at the rogues for good reason, its been way too long since I wrote some decent angst, natasha romanov mentioned, not mentioned but we all need the reminder, not team Cap friendly, wanda is still dead don’t worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 14:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17551859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonn/pseuds/demonn
Summary: A wounded noise made its way out of James’ throat, coating his lips in bitter agony. “I do not want to solve my problems with violence. I feel like a hypocrite,” he continued, “or a liar. I’ve told everyone that I don’t want to fight, that it don’t want to bring pain to anyone, but at my first chance I attempted to knock three people out. I just want to forget that I can do as much damage with my fists as I can with my words. I want to forget that my body is easier than my mind, I just want to..”He trailed off, another wounded noise filling the silence. “I wanted to do it, and I feel horrible because I wanted to do it.”





	It feels like nothing is easy (it’ll never be)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: talk to me by cavetown.

 

“That storm looks pretty bad, huh?” Tony and James shared a customary glance at each other before joining hands. James curled up into the crook of Tony’s neck with Tony resting a hand on his thigh. “Looks like it’s going to be all wet in the morning.”

James hummed in response, his hair shifting over his eyes in what could only be seen as a deliberate attempt to get out of the conversation.

Tony was no stranger to James’ bad days, he’d been there through many of his depressive episodes. He’d mostly just sit and provide the coffee and food and cuddles when asked, one hand latched possessively around his waist unless he asked him to remove it. (Tony never knew what it was like to be owned in the worst ways possible, he never wanted to know, so if the love of his life wanted him to let go for a second so they could remember they could belong to themselves whenever, who was he to deny?)

Tony sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around them both, allowing the soft pitter latter of rain provide all the talking they needed. The rain was good, storms as well, meant that the flowers would grow better in James’ little patch of garden near the back of the compound. Brimming with dahlia flowers and perfectly pruned shrubbery. In one corner, was a couple of succulents that wouldn’t fit into the pots on his windowsill. He’d tried to grow vines but as of late, but had had no success.

Tony sat with him, rubbing one hand through his thick hair and the other lazily tracing circles into his hip. It was calming, for both of them, and James melted under his tender touch, seeping into a little puddle of less-sad.

(During those episodes - hydra episodes, James liked to call them - happiness came rare. It was more peak sadness then sad then less sad then normal for a few hours before he could get a grip on himself. There was no use in calling something so _ugly_ happy, something so _toxic_ and _creeping_ could never be called pretty.)

After a few minutes, maybe even hours, James shifted in his seat, head tilting up to gaze at Tony. “I haven’t had a good day today,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “Me and doc, we’ve been making progress and now I feel like a dick because I took all of that to the gutter, forgot I had a mouth and decided to speak with my fists.”

Tony reeled back. “You punched someone?” He said, voice more surprise than worry.

“I punched Steve, I think. It could have been Clint. I definitely punched Natasha.” James turned the events over in his head.

Steve had been particularly... invasive, he guessed. More likely to follow him around like a puppy if he wasn’t clinging to him like a wet sock. It was horrible and debasing and he felt himself wanting to just curl his hands around the other mans neck and choke him until he understood just how suffocating it felt.

But James wasn’t all that violent, no, and he wasn’t going to cause pain to another person when the situation didn’t call for it. Steve hadn’t attacked him, Steve barely tried to touch him, not after James almost took his hand off with a knife anyway. But that being said, the bed visits increased, the steady organisation of his life rose to almost deafening levels.

To Steve, he concluded, he was a doll that the other man particularly liked and was willing to share with some of the kids on the block. Like a new kid. James supposed he was a new kid, but Steve didn’t have to be so hurtful about it all, even if he didn’t intend to be hurtful. James could tolerate Steve, he didn’t want the man to be able to call him ‘mine’ or ‘my’, that honour was reserved for Tony and Tony alone. No thought of it happening with any other people had ever crossed his mind. He would know, even if his head was still a bit cottony.

He wanted to belong, sure, but he wanted to choose who he belonged to. He didn’t want to wake up one morning and realise they’d split his body into a million pieces ,like shattered glass, and handed him off to whoever they deemed worthy.

He wanted to belong to Tony and only Tony. Maybe in the future he would allow more people a part of himself, but at the moment? He was content with just Tony.

“I’m not going to say they deserved it, but I don’t know how it all went down, but, they probably deserved it. I know how they are and the kind of things they say and I know how you are and how you would react to certain things, and to be honest,” Tony paused for a second, looking down at James, “I don’t blame you for punching them.”

A wounded noise made its way out of James’ throat, coating his lips in bitter agony. “I do not want to solve my problems with violence. I feel like a hypocrite,” he continued, “or a liar. I’ve told everyone that I don’t want to fight, that it don’t want to bring pain to anyone, but at my first chance I attempted to knock three people out. I just want to forget that I can do as much damage with my fists as I can with my words. I want to forget that my body is easier than my mind, I just want to..”

He trailed off, another wounded noise filling the silence. “I wanted to do it, and I feel horrible because I wanted to do it.”

“You cannot blame yourself for things that are not your fault,” Tony paused, cringing. “Well you can. But it’s not like you killed them or anything. It’s not something they haven’t suffered before, its not like they didn’t know what they were doing.

“They really didn’t know that they’d pushed me to the edge though,” James defended, voice barely reaching Tony’s ear. “As much as I dislike them, I never made them bear witness to my panic attacks and hydra moments. They thought I was fine and I let them live in that ignorant bliss.”

“Are we forgetting that Natasha is a super spy? Clint as well? They definitely noticed you weren’t the same person that you were in the 40’s. I’m not trying to be harsh, but they knew, they definitely knew.”

Tony let the near silence in for a minute or two, tugging the jumper tighter around them both.

“They said they could cure me,” James whispered after a little while longer. “Said that they could take me way and cure me without all the BARF and therapy and, and you.” He shuddered and one lone tear slipped out of his eyes. “And I got mad and they were mad that I was mad and Steve, he’d packed all the stuff in my rooms and put them in bags and told me we could get away now and I could think about was hydra, hydra, hydra.”

The wind _howled_ in the background, a fitting sound to accompany the anger swirling inside of Tony. He wanted to hit something, someone, and fry them until all they could feel, heat, smell, was their skin burning off their body.

How _dare_ they? How _dare_ they touch James’ stuff and all but try and force him to leave? How _dare_ they provoke him to the point of a episode? How _dare_ they use his guilt against him? How _dare_ they even touch him?

Tony was vaguely aware that he was turning blue, a side effect of extremis, but he really didn’t care. His eyes throbbed with excess electricity and he could feel the creeping vines of electric blue all over his body. He was hot, burning hot, and all he wanted to do was set his body on fire.

Instead, he muttered a sorry and calmed down, because James didn’t need him to fight his battles. He needed him to tend to his wounds and hold him and tell him it would all be alright.

“You never have to leave,” he decided on, “you never have to leave if you don’t want to. I’ll make sure of it, I’ll make sure you always have a choice.”

James whimpered slightly, relaxing into Tony’s tight grip once again. “I love you, babycakes, and I’ll protect you for as long as you want me to. I’ll be here for as long as you want me to be here. Through pain and sadness and anger. I’ll never let you go if you don’t want me to.”

“I know Tony, I know. I love you too.”

Tony settled for the answer even if he could detect the undercurrent of lingering guilt. He would settle for whatever James gave him, whenever he decided to give it because he loved him. Loved him more than all the stars in the sky and all the p,ants in their fucked up earth. Loved him more than every bone in every body in every universe. Loved him more than he had loved anything else and that was a fact.

They weren’t perfect, god he hoped they would never be perfect, and that was just fine. Tony didn’t want perfect, he just wanted James. His babycakes, his sweetheart, darling, lover, cold-snap, frostee-freeze. His whatever whenever. By his side always.

Whether he was James or the soldier or the person in between. Just wanted him.

So he held his hands in a mockery of prayer and prayed to every god that he didn’t believe in, because Christ, he just wanted to keep the man.

(And somewhere, where the ground was warm and the people didn’t spare someone with green hair and tattoos and divinity etched into their very livelihood a second glance, someone heard his prayer and smiled.)

**Author's Note:**

> You know how I was meant to write a little about the green haired god thing. I have no idea how to start that, so I just shimmied out this short little slice of angst. I’ve just been feeling a little angsts lately so how do I fix that? More angst.
> 
> I haven’t used the ‘not Steve friendly’ Tag in a while so i decided today would be the day I used it again. I don’t know, I just needed some reminding that Steve was a prick and he done some horrible things to good people all in the name of righteousness. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Kudos fill my empty, black soul and comments warm my freezing heart.
> 
> (OK, update it is the 11th of June 2019.
> 
> At the time of writing this I was really bitter about the rogues, don't get me wrong mstill bitter, but I've come to accept that I can't spend my qhoe life hating them.
> 
> The rogues were fucking pricks and done some horrible stuff but, I'm moving past it? I'll always be a team iron man supporter and a Tony stark stan but I'm also a writer? I can create a world for my characters were they weren't such pricks? I can create a world, period?
> 
> Post endgame taught me that I gotta appreciate characters I disliked cause I'm going to watch all the future marvel movies and be dissapointed when I see that they're not there.
> 
> Really, it all comes down to the fact that yes, Canon is Canon, but fanfic are fanfic and thateans I can change things I ant to. Yes, there will be some more works of mine where Steve is a complete dick, there will be some where he's amazing and I love him.
> 
> You gotta appreciate the things you have when you still have them. In this essay I will-l
> 
> Hope you all have a nice day. ❤️


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